


Education

by orphan_account



Category: Un monstre à Paris | A Monster in Paris (2011)
Genre: F/M, Francoeur uses Sign Language, Masturbation, NSFW, Non-Penetrative Sex, Sex Toys, Tumblr: otpprompts, Vibrators, i swear i didnt want to write bug smut but smut is all i know orz, im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 15:48:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6992050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Imagine person A having a secret collection of sex toys and other things. Person B one day find the entire stash and A walks in while B is looking through it. Person A is almost in tears and apologizing constantly and B makes them feel better by saying “We’ll use them later if you want~” Person A, now flustered and red, agrees to B."</p>
<p>Francoeur gained sentience so quickly that Lucille sometimes forgets that he doesn't know anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Education

“That’s it. That’s the last of it.”

“Thank you Raoul. I will invite you all to dinner once I’ve unpacked.”

Lucille gently shut the door as he turned to leave into the evening air. She leaned against the door with a sigh, letting the tension fall from her body. She’d finally done it, though. As much as she loved living where she worked, she needed a bigger space, something more like a home and less like a hideaway between sets. And now that Francoeur was more permanently situated into his body, she needed a place for him where they wouldn’t be stepping over one another. 

The singer listened for him, wondering where he’d run off to. He’d been exploring their new home with excitement akin to a child, opening every door and touching all the switches and picking up anything he could. She was delighted - so far, their new concoction had worked, and he had yet to show any regression back to his old body. They had also been working on sign language together, so that they could communicate a little easier.

“Francoeur?” She called out, checking the kitchen and dining room. No sign. She glanced up the stairs, straining to listen. No sounds. He wasn’t at the piano, and one of his guitars was strung up on the wall. She padded up the stairs, calling out again. “Francoeur?”

His room was empty. Now she was concerned. She finally pressed open the door to her room.

She sighed in relief, seeing his hulking mass crouched on the floor.

“Oh Francoeur, what are you up t-” She stopped as he looked up at her, eyes wide an innocent, his hands filled with toys. Her face burned red, gasping. “Francoeur! Where did you get those?”

The beast pointed to the small hatbox, smiling that innocent smile of his. She blushed harder, reaching for the box. “Oh Francoeur, I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have these, I’m not sure how you even - perhaps we should - what I mean is - oh, damnit-” She spluttered, reaching for the ones in his hands. He drew back quickly, eyeing her quizzically. “I’m sorry Francoeur, really-” 

He chirruped, cutting her off. He held them up, his shoulders shrugged, as if reading, ‘ _ What?’  _ Her eyes narrowed at him.

“Francoeur? What’s wrong?”

He gestured with his one free hand, making the same motion, head cocking. 

“You want to know… what they do? Or what they are?”

Francoeur indicated the former. He quickly signed, ‘ _ Show me,’ _ and she gasped.

“Francoeur! I cannot! It- I- It’s so- That’s- ....I simply  _ can’t!  _ It’s a…. Well, it’s a toy. An… adult toy. For...” She took a deep breath, trying to get the words out. She couldn’t hide its true nature. “For  _ pleasure,  _ if you will.”

The flea chirruped again, persistent. They were silent for a moment, locked in a strange tension. Finally he placed them down, all except one - the round silver plate at the top shone almost offensively, and in his hand he gripped the sleek redwood handle. The plug dangled towards the floor. His thumb rested on the small black rubber top. He stood, though slightly crouched, as if to make himself look friendlier. She reached out to touch it - it was a very new, high-tech model. She gently brushed the shiny silver. She had used it but once, and it had worked almost too well - she had never gotten off as quickly as with this one. Perhaps he had been attracted to it because it was so shiny.

Her fingers brushed against his and she jolted back in shock. She held her hand as if burned, looking at him with wide eyes. She saw her reflection in his, his innocence, his desire to learn, his curiosity, matched with her concern, her confusion. 

“Francoeur…” She whispered, staring at him. “We shouldn’t.  _ I  _ shouldn’t. It’s not right. You’re a-...” She stopped, watching him. Did it matter? They spent all their time together. She trusted no one else the same. He wanted to know. He  _ was  _ sentient. He had, to a degree, a sense of humanity. He pressed the toy into her hands, cocking his head, wringing his hands. She took his hands. “Are you sure?” He nodded, encouraging.

She stepped over to dim the lights. He watched her every move, as if already learning. She strode over to the bed, sitting down slowly. She motioned for him to come closer, and he obeyed. Instead of sitting beside her, though, he knelt in front of her, a little under eye level. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. 

“You can’t just use it right away,” she murmured, looking down at his chest to avoid eye contact. “You have to get… mmm, what’s the word? ‘Warmed up’ first. Usually with two people it’s touching, kissing, but I can do it my-” Her words were cut off by a kiss on the cheek. Her eyes shot open, looking up at him as he looked at her, expectantly. Suddenly, she broke out in laughter.

When she finally settled down, wiping a stray tear, she smiled at him, staring at her with a shocked confusion. “Non, Francoeur, non. Not quite like that. It is not so innocent,” she said. She motioned him closer and he leaned in, as if to hear a secret. She cupped his cheek, eyes half-lidded as she pulled him in for a kiss.

It was bizarre - his mandibles brushed gently against her cheeks, twitching, as they did when he was processing something, his eyes wide open, reading, registering. She made her movements small at first, not extravagant, just trying to show him. As he finally started picking up, learning where and how to move his lips, she slid her tongue into his mouth, eyes closing fully. Here she simply explored, tongue toying with his, showing him the way. This time he picked up quicker, responding in kind. When she withdrew her tongue, he followed, mimicking her movements. A tiny smile edged her lips at this. He was such a wonderful creature.

Lucile pressed very gently on his chest and he withdrew, watching her. 

“You are a fast learner, Francoeur,” she soothed, and he beamed with pride. She kissed him again, briefly, and pulled away once more. 

“You must touch, too. Here, help me.” She stood, turning around. He knew this - he did this every day. He deftly unclipped the top, zipping down her dress. But instead of her just removing it herself as normal, she turned to face him, taking his hands and helping him slide the garment down her arms, before letting go. He tugged the sleeves off her hands and pressed it past her hips, looking more at the dress than her face. He was so concentrated on his task, she couldn’t help but smile down at him. Finally it pooled at her feet - it felt so slow, not having to rush for a costume change. She stepped out of it, closer into his arms, and he instinctively placed his hands over her hips. She placed hers on his shoulders, one coming up to stroke the side of his face sweetly. She had to admit - she was enjoying this. To take the time so slowly to really feel every movement, to break down what she had done without thinking many times before - it made the act entirely new.

She stepped out of his hands and leaned back on the bed. She motioned for him to come along, and with her guidance, he crawled overtop of her. “Here, darling Francoeur, you are free. Touch me. Explore. Learn.”

That is all Lucille said, laying back as if lounging. He chittered, though she could not register what this one meant. Perhaps nervous, or confusion, or excitement. It was a new sound.

He started at her head, brushing a few stray hairs from her face. His two bottom hands held her hips, both to support himself and keep her in constant contact. He cupped her cheeks, tilting her head. No response so far, though he didn’t know what he was looking for. He chirped a question, but decided to just do it anyway, leaning his head down to kiss her again. He enjoyed the one without the tongue the best - her lips were very soft on his. She nipped his bottom lip and he squeaked in surprise, his head shooting back. She giggled at him, nodding for him to come back. Slowly he did, kissing her again. He bit her lip, and she pulled off. “Not so hard, Francoeur. Gently, yes?” He tried again, his nip much softer, earning him a soft, soft gasp. Barely a higher intake of breath. He kissed her for a moment longer before pulling off, enjoying the way her mouth seemed to follow his for a half a second afterwards. 

His hands moved to her neck, brushing lightly, as if petting. “Use your mouth, Francoeur,” she urged sweetly, and he obliged, first placing a sweet kiss on her neck. He nibbled a bit, earning him another soft gasp. He trailed his tongue in the same spot, and she praised him. Excited, he repeated this with the other side, biting a fraction harder, sucking briefly. 

Francoeur continued, still questing for more information, still desperate to find out what the… ‘toys’ did. He traced her brassiere, looking up at her questioningly. 

“Untie it, you have to remove it,” she told him, arching her back. He reached behind her, tugging the laces until it loosened completely, pulling it down and off, tossing it bedside. He stared at her for a second - this he had not seen - cataloging information. “Touch them,” she reminded him.

He reached up, his hands encircling her breasts. She leaned her head back, sighing. He groped them, feeling the weight, feeling the softness. He thumb brushed over a nipple as he adjusted and she let out a tiny sound. 

His head shot up like lightning, cocked like a dog hearing a car. Curious, he did it again, on both, and she did it again. He released her breasts completely, his fingers now circling the nipples, watching in awe as they stiffened under his touch. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He poked them, prodded, but not quite the response he wanted. Francoeur tried brushing against them, rubbing, even pulling gently, and she purred in response.

Then, he had an idea. Thinking back, he lowered his head to her chest, glancing up at her for reassurance, but she had her eyes closed. He decided instead to just venture - he was given freedom, after all. He opened his mouth, ghosting over her left nipple, a breath of hot air. He pressed a kiss, though it did not have as much response. He then decided, instead, to use his teeth. One small nip, very very gently, and she let out a low moan.

Francoeur’s eyes widened. It did not sound pained, but he pulled away, looking at her with a wondering chirrup, to make sure. “No, Francoeur, that is very good. That’s what you want.” Her voice was low now, lower than normal. He wasn’t sure if it really  _ was  _ good, but he bent his head down again, no longer looking at her, instead at his work. He opened his mouth, though this time he swiped his tongue across the nub. She groaned, her hand caressing the back of his head. He licked at her nipple, slowly, then quickly, noting each response. He scraped his teeth against it, nibbling, biting. Then he sucked, and she gasped, her fingers curling into the back of his head. He chirped in delight at his new discovery. Maybe this was what she used it on.

He moved his head to the other one, repeating many of his motions, nixing ones that had less response. He found his tongue more useful here, found sucking his number one option - though not too much in a row, apparently variety was a good thing. He leaned back, wanting to do  _ both _ at the same time, but knowing he couldn’t. He figured it out - he placed his mouth over one, and his hand rested over the other. As he nibbled and sucked and toyed with her breast with his mouth, his hand teased and tugged and flicked over the other. Here she began to truly enjoy it, leaning her head back, his hips arching slightly into his hands. 

He could have stayed there all day, but she spoke again. “Keep going, Francoeur. Don’t just stop there,” Lucille reminded him. “It is the whole body.” He nodded, his top hands still teasing and kneading her breasts as she spoke. Finally they trailed down her belly, stroking the skin here, though it was not quite as responsive. She giggled when he touched her belly button, shying away as if ticklish. He moved on from that, down to her hipbones and thighs. He stroked the skin here, and she sighed, as if content. She lifted her hips as he repeated what he did before, pulling off her undergarments and tossing them aside. As he touched her inner thighs, she opened them, and he cocked his head. He bent down for a closer look between her legs - he’d had no idea. He chirped subconsciously, and she chuckled at that. His fingers trailed closer, barely touching, just spreading her folds, pulling the hood, exploring. 

She opened her mouth to speak, explaining swiftly that the main focuses were the clit - which she verbally guided him to - and the vagina, which he looked at questioningly. After, she went quiet, letting him study.

Francoeur finally moved his hands, stroking the entirety of her sex at once, though that seemed to do very little. He touched her clit, first but a whisper, then more times with more force. He rubbed over it and she gasped, her hips bucking up against his hands. He did it again, pressing down, a small tug, anything he could think of. He grinned now, knowing  _ exactly  _ what he should do. He lowered his head, his mouth enveloping her sex. She moaned out, gasping as his tongue pressed against her clit. He did slow, uncertain strokes at first, getting a feel of where his tongue should be for a real response from her. He sucked gently and she moaned his name - he decided he quite liked that. He tried to continue, but she pressed gently on his head until he pulled away.

“Francoeur, if you keep doing that, we won’t be able to use the toy.” He chirped in shock, he didn’t want that. She motioned for him to go get it. He extended his arm, grabbing it off the edge of the bed, pulling it towards her. He offered it to her, but she enclosed his hands with hers, instead showing him the switch to turn it on. He did, cooing along with the vibrations it made. She laughed, guiding his hands down to her sex. 

He pressed it very gently against her clit, his lower hands shooting to her hips to hold her down as she arched in surprise, groaning out. He paused, watching her, before deeming it safe to put back on. He pressed it to her clit again, this time not relenting as she gasped and moaned and strained against the restraint of his hands. He chirruped in pleased surprise, watching the way her breasts shifted as she moved, watching her chest rise and fall as she struggled to breathe properly, gasping in lungfuls of air. He looked down to the toy, to where it covered her clit. And still her entrance was completely untouched. Curious, he used his free hand, sliding it down her inner thigh, shifting over. He thumbed around it, watched her response. He then pressed the very tip of his finger in. She whimpered, bucking as if trying to get more. He marveled in how wet she was, how she coated his fingertip so easily. He pressed in a little more, awed by how it felt like he was being sucked in. He finally pressed his finger in all the way to the knuckle, resting for a second. He watched for response, no different than before. He crooked his finger, readjusting, and she cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders as she called his name, her back completely off the bed. She moaned continuously between his name, or broken versions of it, and his eyes were completely shocked open, his body frozen. 

Finally, she lay gasping against the bed. She pushed his hand away, and he obliged, turning the toy off. He withdrew his finger, causing her to groan at the loss. He sat back, watching her, waiting.

“Oh, Francoeur…” She sighed, looking up at him. She crooked a finger and he crawled closer, his knees on either side of hers. She tugged him down at the back of his neck, pulling him in for a lingering kiss. This one had no tongue, no rush, no urgency, but now it was lazy, comfortable - no teaching, just a real, actual kiss. He closed his eyes, trying to enjoy it, mind racing.

She finally pulled off, smiling. “That is what toys are for.”

He cocked his head, eagerness shining in his eyes. With his hand, he signed, ‘ _ Another?’ _

**Author's Note:**

> i swear man i want to write UMAP fanfics because we have like two  
> but i hate the L/R ship man it felt so forced idk  
> i dont know if i ship them either i'm just gonna...........write it anyway...................
> 
> i just wanna get a feel for F as a character im gonna try to fluff up the fandom with more fics cause we have like six


End file.
